


Made Different

by PrintDust



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-02
Updated: 2013-12-02
Packaged: 2018-01-03 07:37:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1067796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrintDust/pseuds/PrintDust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Her breaths came harder and faster as she backed up away from the closing in herd. She felt hot tears build in her eyes, her heart hammering wildly against her rib-cage. Suddenly a hand closed around her arm and she spun around, ready to fight. "Jesus, woman, it's me," a gruff male voice grunted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The sun was warming her skin and Lori took a deep breath of fresh air, thankful that it was looking to be another good day. They had gone so long through the winter without much hope at all and now it felt like a whole new world where they could really carve out a life for themselves.

The group had spent the week cleaning out the prison. She, Carol, and Beth had concentrated most of their energy on the inside, scrubbing their cell block until the place was almost… homey. Lori chuckled to herself - she never thought she would say that about a prison. They'd even had a few decent meals that she and Carol and had put together using the supplies that Rick had bartered for from the prisoners. And the yard was looking better too, thanks to the rest of the group's hard work.

Standing back a couple of steps from where Hershel was still adjusting to the crutches, she used one hand to brace her lower back while the other blocked out the sun so that she could take a good look around. The bodies had been cleared out of the main yard area along with some of the debris. The others had made a pile of the corpses that they intended on burning on the other side of the fence. She looked around for the group now, finally locating her husband on the far side of the prison near the exterior fence. She couldn't hold back the slow smile that spread across her face when his eyes met hers.

They'd been doing well in the time since their conversation on the overpass… they weren't speaking much still, but the cold shoulders and impatient sighs had stopped. She was hopeful that soon he would come to her and accept the apology that she had been of extending for months; the idea gave her a pleasant feeling. Maybe if he came around then Carl would too.

Lori glanced in her son's direction when he made a joke about Hershel being ready to race. She laughed softly. Not because she found quip particularly funny, but because it was nice to hear him loosen up a little. She missed her playful boy.

The small group stood shoulder to shoulder, Hershel between herself and Beth, Carl on the end furthest away from her. She took another deep breath and tried to relax her shoulders and the aching muscles in her back as she absorbed the sun, her eyes still trained on her husband. This pregnancy had been so different from when she was expecting Carl. She'd missed Rick: his support, his compliments… the back massages. She knew that the world was different now… and this pregnancy, well, it was not uncomplicated in so many ways.

She was alerted to a sound over her shoulder and she furrowed her brow as she turned to see what it was. She'd barely been able to process the movements in her periphery before her son's voice rang out in alarm. "Walkers!"

Lori's right hand shot instantly to the back pocket of her jeans where she kept her revolver while her left hand moved to cradle her belly. She turned around quickly with her weapon already raised, one eye closed to help her aim. She fired twice in row exploding the skulls of the two Walkers closest to her. With a little more room to breathe she looked over at her son who had stepped up onto a table. She moved towards him, firing and missing another Walker in the process.

Hershel and Beth had already made their way across the prison yard headed toward one of the gated doors. If they could secure themselves inside the small area they would be fine. Her heart picked up speed as she noted more and more Walkers piling into the yard and she closed her hand around Carl's arm, tugging him backwards, away from the closing in herd. He resisted and broke his arm free from her grasp, shooting her a warning look over his shoulder.

She faltered, but only for a second. She wouldn't be bullied this time.

"Lori!"

She and Carl both looked towards the sound of her name to Maggie who was closest to the door that would take them into the cafeteria. The oldest Greene daughter had already opened the gate and was keeping the area clear enough for Lori and Carl to make it over there.

Carl leapt down from the bench and started toward Maggie, Lori on his heels, one hand pressed against his shoulder urging him forward. She'd just pushed him through the gate when she felt something tug on her hair. Twisting around she came face to face with a Walker dressed in blue prison overalls. The thing wreaked of death as it expelled putrid air through its rotting mouth.

She cried out in a mixture of fear and surprise and yanked her head, tearing her scalp as she stumbled backwards, the gate behind her eventually breaking her fall. With the weight of her body she had slammed it closed, securing Carl and Maggie inside. The momentum was enough to free her from the Walkers grasp and she watched wide-eyed as it lashed at her, her torn out long brown hair wrapped around its fingers.

She kicked out, her foot colliding with its knee with a crunch, causing it to cave in on itself. With the thing still stumbling to get up she pushed away from the gate and stepped around the Walker, still avoiding its flailing hands. She could hear Carl and Maggie screaming for her and she looked at her boy's fearful expression.

"Go inside," she ordered, backing away from them. "I'll find another way."

She didn't have time to say anything else as more of the dead staggered toward her, blocking her path back to the prison. "Go now!" she barked whipping around and running in the opposite direction.

She spotted Carol with T-Dog draped over her shoulder as they ducked inside another door, but she couldn't get there without having to take out another half-a-dozen Walkers. Anxiety swelled through her and her stomach cramped under her hand as she realized that she was trapped between the fence and prison with nowhere to go. She pressed her hand harder to her belly to reassure her squirming baby, a feeling of nausea mixed with dread paralyzing her.

Her breaths came harder and faster as she backed up away from the closing in herd. She felt hot tears build in her eyes, her heart hammering wildly against her ribcage. Suddenly, a hand closed around her arm and she spun around, ready to fight.

"Jesus, woman, it's me," a gruff male voice grunted.

She wasn't breathing easy yet - though she was grateful that she wasn't alone. "Daryl," she cried, already being dragged behind him by her wrist. She moved as quickly as she could to keep up with his pace as he hauled her across the prison yard. She caught her foot on something and she stumbled, twisting her ankle and back painfully, but she recovered her footing quickly and forced herself to push through the pain. She looked briefly over her shoulder to see that they were still being pursued - most of the Walkers had been distracted by Rick and the others who were firing shots.

"What about -"

"Shut up and run," Daryl snapped, leading her further away from the chaos. They rounded another corner and she hoped that they would have a minute to catch their breath. With one hand still gripped almost painfully in his fist, she rested her other one on the stitch in her side, her breath coming in short painful gasps.

Daryl seemed to be looking around to form a plan, so Lori used the opportunity to peek around the corner to see how much time they had to spare. The group of Walkers following them were only a few feet away and Lori whispered, panic clear in her voice, "Daryl."

"Here," he nodded toward part of the fence that had collapsed under the pressure of a bus that had been driven through it. The building had been hit too, and one of the walls had crumbled leaving a steep incline of wreckage.

Lori eyed the pile of twisted metal and rubble nervously, but her body didn't hesitate as she began to climb, clawing her way over the shattered bricks and cement. Daryl didn't follow her up right away. Instead, he remained on the ground level, two knives raised and ready in each of his fists. Lori turned away from the scene and back toward the top of the pile, focussing her waning energy on getting to it. She made it to the top, hands scratched and raw, and pulled herself over the metal edge of the prison roof, its sharp side scraping the skin of her belly and thighs painfully. Grasping at the loose gravel, panting for breath, her body screaming in protest, she waited for Daryl to follow her over.

When Daryl didn't come, she crawled back to the edge and peered over. He was already climbing toward her, leaving a pile of Walkers that he had put down on the ground below.

He ignored her hand when she reached for him, and instead launched himself onto the roof, landing on his knees beside her. "Fuck," he breathed, turning to look at her, his face and clothes splattered with dark blood. He was the first to move when he lifted his forearm to inspect a shard of glass that was protruding from his skin. He winced as he closed his fingers around it and dislodged it with a clean yank. He dropped the bloody glass to the ground and closed his hand over the wound.

"Is it bad?" Lori asked, slowly rocking herself forward so that she could get to her knees. In her new position she crawled over to him. He looked at her sceptically when she rested her hand on top of his and tried to pry it back so that she could see the damage. One corner of her mouth turned up and she squinted her eyes at him when he didn't let go.

At her stern expression he huffed and dropped his hand, revealing a deep gash.

Lori breathed out and offered him a sympathetic look, which he shrugged off. "Ain't no big deal," he pushed her hands away. "Nothin' some duct tape and toilet paper wouldn't take care of."

Her smile widened and she rolled her eyes. "Fresh out of that, I'm afraid," she looked around the vacant rooftop. "Fresh out of everything," she sighed using both hands to brace her back. She winced and arched it a little to ease an ache and caught Daryl watching her out of the corner of his eye. "I'm fine," she assured him.

"I didn't ask," he scoffed and got to his feet. "What the hell is that sound?" He demanded, referring to the alarm that was blaring in two to three second intervals. He turned around to walk the perimeter of the roof, but not before checking her over one more time.

While he was occupied, Lori used her knee to stand up too. She tested her sore ankle by applying a little pressure. It hurt, but it wasn't unmanageable. She took a couple of steps to make sure it would hold her, and then made her way over to where Daryl was standing, looking out over the part of the yard where they had been attacked.

The other members of their group were gone, leaving behind the scattered remains of prisoners and civilians. There were still Walkers stumbling around in the other part of the yard, and she wondered if they would find their way in too. She bit her lip and felt tears build in her eyes - how had everything fallen apart so quickly?

In her periphery she could see Daryl look at her and she wiped her eyes, sniffing. "Sorry," she mumbled crossing her arms over her chest.

He shrugged and turned back to look straight ahead.

"Thanks for helping me," Lori kept her eyes forward too, knowing he wasn't one for heart-felt conversations… or any kind of conversation really. It was one of the reasons they'd never really had much to do with one-another. It wasn't that there were any ill feelings - not on her part, anyway; their ways were just too different.

The man beside her simply nodded and she was startled when his hand landed on her shoulder. "Best we find a way back inside." Releasing her, he stepped away from the edge of the roof and started toward the roof access door.

Lori uncrossed her arms and turned to follow him, but stopped short as she felt a twinge in her belly. Freezing, she rested both hands on her stomach and waited for it to pass. She'd been feeling contractions all morning, but they hadn't been doing much in terms of moving her into active labour. She took a deep breath through her nose and blew it out slowly through her mouth. Daryl had his back to her and she was grateful that he was distracted with trying to get the door open. Finally, the contraction passed and she made her way over to him, her hands still cradling her belly.

"Damn thing is jammed closed tighter than a virgin's," Daryl cut himself short and shot her a look. He cleared his throat at her blank expression and hauled on the door handle again. "It's stuck."

Lori's shoulders fell in disappointment. "So what do we do? Go back down there?" she asked, looking over her shoulder to where they had climbed up. She cringed at the thought of having to pick her way back down the pile without falling and breaking her neck.

Daryl's lip curled. "Too many Walkers in the yard," he decided. "Can't take 'em all myself and you ain't much good backup." He stepped back, ignoring the offended look on her face and jogged over towards the piled of debris that they had used as a ladder.

Too exhausted to keep chasing him around, Lori leaned against the wall next to the door and watched him crouch down beside the edge of the roof. Reaching down, he started fishing around. After a minute of yanking on something he straightened up with a metal pipe, and used the back of his hand to wipe a layer of sweat off his forehead. He held the pipe up to show her as he made his way back over.

She meant to offer him a grateful smile but she was a little distracted by the tightening of her belly again. This time, Lori held her breath and tried to keep her features neutral. Closing her eyes she pressed her hand a little harder to her abdomen. She wasn't ready to share this latest development in their crises just yet, in case it turned out to be nothing. And if she was being honest she wasn't quite ready to accept it herself; she wasn't ready for this baby to come. Physically she was; she was sick of the back aches, the pressure, the discomfort… but she and Rick were still at odds. Not to mention that she was stranded on a roof-top with Daryl Dixon while Hershel and Carol were God-only-knew where.

The loud bang of metal-on-metal startled both her and the baby and her eyes flew open. She flinched as Daryl swung the pipe back over his shoulder again and then launched it forward to collide with the door-handle.

"Is that really going to do anything?" she asked rubbing her belly to soothe the restless baby. "Ouch," she mumbled when tiny feet collided with her ribs, making her double over a little.

"What?" Daryl had turned to her, abandoning the pipe on the floor with a clang. He closed both his hands over her elbows and he shook her to get her to look at him.

Lori chuckled softly. "So that's what it takes to rattle calm, collected, Daryl Dixon," she teased. "I'm fine," she straightened up and lifted her chin. "Just got nailed in the ribs is all. You scared him with the banging…"

"Jesus H." Daryl released his hold on her and picked up his pipe again shooting her an impatient look. "Don't pull that shit again or I'm leavin' you behind," he turned back to the door, using one end of the pipe as a crowbar to pry at the handle.

Lori knew he didn't mean it, but she felt tears prick her eyes anyway at the thought. She felt another contraction begin to seize her muscles and she turned to look away into the distance.


	2. Chapter 2

Daryl had managed to pry the handle off the door and he was currently jamming the pipe inside the mechanism to break the dead-bolt. Sweat glistened on his forehead, chest, and biceps, mixing with blood and dirt as he worked. It was a noisy process, and Lori hoped that it would attract the attention of the others in their group and not the Walkers in the yard.

She couldn't see much of a threat from where she was sitting on a vent nearby. The Walkers seemed to be piling up on the fence, pushing and clawing at the chain-link without making much of an impact. It seemed that they would be secure for at least a little bit longer. The alarm was still blaring and the sound was starting to give her a headache. She knew she was dehydrated from sitting in the sun, and she had to pee. The contractions had continued in regular intervals and she knew she would have to tell Daryl soon. She'd counted about thirty alarm-rings between each contraction, which put them at about seven or eight minutes apart as best as she could tell.

Her eyes swept the distance again and she took a deep breath to calm her nerves. She focussed on the feeling of the sun on her skin and cool breeze that occasionally moved the hair against her cheek. The air felt fresher than it had before. It had been almost a year now with reduced human population, waste, and pollution. And it seemed like the earth had cleansed itself over the winter.

She heard Daryl curse over her shoulder and she turned to look at him. She flinched when he slammed the butt of the pipe into the lock with full force. The sound echoed over the rooftop and around the prison yard. She looked nervously toward the fence where she had been observing the Walkers before. "Should we really be makin' that much noise?" Lori asked. She knew it would piss him off, but she wondered if they were wasting their time. She just wanted to get back to C-Block to make sure that Carl and Rick were okay and she was getting worried about the baby. "Maybe we should take our chances with the yard…" she suggested pushing herself slowly to her feet.

"Too dangerous," Daryl grunted as he turned around to look at her. He took a step in her direction, his eyes warning her to back off.

Lori ignored the warning and pushed on. "Is going back into the prison any safer?" she appealed, opened her hands to indicate the building that they were standing on. "This block hasn't even been cleared; we don't know what's in there…" She took one final step until she was just a few feet from him.

Daryl's jaw was ticking and he pushed his shoulders back as he tilted his head, getting more into her face. "Maybe if you hadn't'a been so stupid in the first place!" he barked, giving her a slow-burning look, "we'd already be back in C-Block and not out here fuckin' 'round with a door that ain't. Gonna. Open!" In his fit he whipped the pipe against the door where it ricochet loudly, then rolled a few feet away.

Lori rolled her eyes at his outburst, refusing to be intimidated by the tantrum. "Because this was all part of my plan to have the pleasure of spending more time in your company," she scowled, one hand moving over her belly in a circular motion. She wouldn't get upset, she told herself. She needed to keep calm… one of them did at least.

Daryl sucked his teeth and pushed past her. "I don't need'ta listen ta yer shit," he snarled, stalking back toward the rubble pile.

"Oh," she mumbled. "So now we're going with my plan..." She started to follow after him, grateful that pretty soon this would all be over and they would be able to go back to being civil by avoiding each other. Damn stubborn…

Suddenly, Daryl whipped around and started charging towards her. Lori raised her hands defensively and took a step back. She wondered if he was going to plough right into her, or hit her, but instead he hollered. "Get the fucking pipe!"

By the time she registered his order he was already passed her and secured the piece of metal in his hands. He was smashing hard against the lock with unmistakable urgency.

"What the hell, Daryl," she looked between him and the edge of the building.

"We got company," he kept smashing at the lock. "Two seconds and there's gonna be a swarm o' Walkers comin' over that wall." He was panting now as he jammed the edge of the pipe inside the lock and twisted it.

Lori raised her revolver, fear licking its way through her. She could barely keep her hands from trembling and she reversed toward Daryl until her back was against the wall beside the door. "Maybe if you hadn't been makin' so much noise with that pipe," she looked over at him for a second. She knew the accusation was ridiculous and immature even as she said it.

He shot her a dirty look then went back to prying at the lock. "Maybe if you hadn't been makin' so much noise with yerr bitchin'," he ground out, pressing down on the pipe with all of his strength. His face twisted and went red with his effort and she heard something snap inside the door; she hoped it wasn't the pipe.

Lori's eyes flew back towards the edge of the building where mottled grey and black arms had appeared as the Walkers clawed there way onto the building roof. She fired a shot, taking one Walker down, but it was barely a second before another set of arms appeared, and then another. "Oh shit, Daryl. Hurry up." She couldn't keep the fear and anxiety out of her voice and she lined up another shot, but when she pulled the trigger she was only rewarded with a small click.

Her chamber was empty.

The Walkers scrambled over each other like crabs in a tank, groaning, and growling.

"Fuck, yeah!" Daryl exclaimed as the deadbolt finally gave way to his assault. He yanked the door open and grabbed her roughly by the arm before shoving her into the building ahead of him. She nearly lost her footing and she grabbed onto the wall to steady herself. The space was barely the size of a closet and they were plunged into almost complete darkness when Daryl pulled the broken door closed. There was a metal emergency latch on the top and Daryl snapped it in place, securing them inside.

The Walkers had made it onto the roof and the first of them collided heavily with the other side of the door, slamming against it as they clawed and scratched against the metal. Long rotting fingers reached for Lori and Daryl through the hole that used to be a handle.

The alarm blared loudly over head from a speaker that was set in the corner and Lori covered her ears with both hands, her eyes fixed on Daryl. A small green emergency light illuminated the space just enough for him to locate the speaker and drive the pipe into it, silencing the alarm.

The Walkers on the other side of the door were worked up into a ravenous frenzy and Lori wondered for a moment if they were actually going to get in; the doorframe trembled and the metal bowed under their weight.

She and Daryl stared at each other in the mild green glow, each panting - their chests heaving as their bodies buzzed with adrenaline. He moved first, leaning to peer over the edge of the hole that was next to them. It was too dark to see how far it descended, but he crouched down anyway, his feet finding the rungs of the ladder that was bolted to the wall. He started to climb down without giving her a second look.

Lori sighed and hesitated until the access door made a cracking sound. She got to her knees as quickly as she could in her current condition and felt around for the ladder. The metal rungs felt slimy under her hands and she shuddered as she lowered herself onto the next one. It was a difficult process with her large belly and excess weight, but pushed herself to continue without complaint – it wasn't like she had any other options.

The bolts felt loose and the ladder shook with her every movement. She looked down into the darkness beneath her and she couldn't see Daryl anymore. Fear gripped her as it occurred to her that he might have left her behind. She tried to move faster and her muscles strained with the exertion. A bead of sweat slid down her spine and she froze as the ladder groaned, then tore away from the wall. With a surprised yelp she realized she was falling backwards and her heart stopped.

Warm hands closed around her hips then slid up her sides to her waist, steadying her. Shakily, she reached for his shoulders and he lowered her slowly until her toes touched the floor, where she realized she had only been a foot or so up from the ground. The realization did nothing to stop her from trembling with fright and shock. Her knees dipped and Daryl tightened his hold on her, keeping her upright.

"Y'okay?" he asked.

Lori nodded, a tear slipping down her cheek as she struggled to bring her body back under her control. She swiped at her cheeks and took a few breaths to calm her nerves. Daryl waited until she was steady and then let her go. He pointed over his shoulder to an open steel door. "That way."

Lori followed him through the door, one hand against the wall, the other wrapped around the underside of her belly in an attempt to help support its weight. She was getting tired, and she knew she was going to need to sit down soon to take the pressure off her pelvis. Just as the thought occurred to her, another contraction crept over her and she slowed, bracing herself against the pain - but she didn't stop.

The distance between her and Daryl increased, but it was all she could do to just keep walking, never mind at his brisk pace.

"Well, get on with it," he snapped, obviously still pissed at her after their little spat on the roof. If she was going to tell him about the labour, now was not the time.

Lori gritted her teeth, but didn't respond to him. The contraction seemed to be lasting an awful long time and she begged her body and the baby to give her a break.

Daryl slowed his paced and dropped back until they were shoulder to shoulder. He didn't say anything, but she knew he was watching her. When the contraction ended she felt like a weight had been lifted off her chest and she breathed deeply. If she was lucky, she would have another seven minutes before it happened again. They could be back in C-Block by that time.

Daryl's shoulder nudged her arm and she passed it off as a mistake and kept moving forward, her eyes fixed ahead. When it happened again she looked at him, expecting him to be glaring at her. Instead, she was surprised to find his mouth twisted into as much of as smirk as she figured he was capable of.

"What?" she demanded, all out of patience.

"Your fat ass broke that ladder back there," he said, his voice still rough, though his tone was lighter. He nudged her again with his shoulder, still watching her.

Lori rolled her eyes, unable to stop the slow smile that spread across her face. "Shut up."

XXXX

They had found themselves in another cellblock that was much different from the one in which they had set up residence. It was a long thin dark hall with cells on both sides and no windows. It was perhaps an older part of the prison, because the walls and floors seemed to be more worn - the concrete almost loose under her feet. Lori stayed close to Daryl's side and as far away from the cell doors as she could get within the confined space. She couldn't see him well enough in the dim, red, glow of the emergency lights to tell if she was annoyed with their close proximity, but he hadn't said anything to voice displeasure.

The doors around them rattled with the sound of metal-on-metal and she could hear shuffling and growling from inside the cells. Lori wondered if the prisoners had been left in there to die of starvation and neglect, or if this block had been used as some kind of quarantine during the initial outbreak.

The emergency lights flickered, and Lori quickly found Daryl's forearm. She closed her fingers around him and stiffened. She wasn't sure what they would do if the lights went out. They were lucky that they hadn't come across any uncontained Walkers yet, but they didn't know what was lurking in the shadows around them.

Daryl tried to shake her hold on him. "Actin' like a bigger baby than the one inside ya," he muttered. "Carl's got bigger balls."

Lori opened her mouth to reply but she was cut short by a strong contraction that wrapped itself all the way around to her spine and squeezed. She felt like she had been socked in the gut and she doubled over groaning. Her nails dug into the flesh of his arm and she waited for the pain to pass.

In her slumped position, she watched as the denim around her crotch darkened and she was met with the sensation of having wet herself. She looked up at Daryl in surprise, expecting a similar reaction to the one she had received on the roof. Instead, his features remained neutral as he inspected the growing wet patch.

"I'm guessin' you didn't just piss yourself," he finally said, looking up to meet her eyes.

Lori, still fighting through the contraction, shook her head, sucking in deep breaths to try to manage the pain. She released her hold on him and turned to brace herself against the wall. He didn't say anything or move while she breathed through the contraction, letting the wall take most of her weight. Finally, it passed as quickly as it had come on.

"Happenin' a lot?" Daryl asked, taking her by the elbow and turning her around. She was surprised at how gentle his touch was. Over the course of the day she had become accustomed to him wrenching her, shoving her, and dragging her. There hadn't been much grace or concern for her comfort in their interactions.

Lori nodded, pursing her lips to contain her emotions. She needed to be clear-headed and logical about this. She was prepared for what would need to happen… she just wasn't prepared for it to happen under these circumstances. She was startled when the lights suddenly went out and then came back on followed by a loud buzzer. They were surrounded by the sound of scraping metal and Lori wondered what the hell it was until she realized with horror that the cell doors were opening.

Her first instinct was to run and she looked at Daryl whose eyes darted around in the darkness. The hall was filling up with faceless shadows, twisted bodies stumbling toward them in the dark.

Lori felt stiff icy fingers lock onto her shoulders with crushing force and she screamed as the Walker stepped further out of the dark cell closest to her. Its teeth caught in her hair as they sought out the flesh on her neck. She heard its skull pop then crunch as Daryl drove the pipe into it. The corpse fell onto her, driving her towards the ground with its weight, but Daryl shoved it back and dragged her back to her feet.

She started to run towards the end of the hall where there were no cell doors, her pants glued to her uncomfortably with amniotic fluid. She could feel Daryl just behind her, running hot on her heels, away from the heaving mass of Walkers that pursued them.

The pair came to a sudden halt at the end of the hall and Daryl instantly moved to take up the rear. He didn't have much to take the Walkers down, but he held them back by kicking at them so they wouldn't be able to swarm. Lori tugged on the door closest to them and was amazed to find it unlocked. She yanked it open and grabbed the back of Daryl's shirt to pull him in with her.

They poured into another area, stumbling over each other in their haste. He moved quickly and pounced on the door to pull it closed against the advancing herd of Walkers. The door had a deadbolt which he snapped in place and then he shoved the metal pipe he had found on the roof through the handle to further secure it.

Lori stumbled away from him as she was assaulted by yet another contraction. She fell against the far wall and slid down its surface until she was crouched on the floor, curled around her tightened belly. Nausea swept over her and she gagged, then dry heaved as the pain overwhelmed her. She needed time and peace to collect herself and get on top of the pain before it swallowed her completely.

It seemed now that she had time, but there was no peace as the Walkers pressed themselves against the glass window that looked out over the cell block. She worried that they might break through it, until she noticed the wire mesh reinforcements. They were safe - for now.

Daryl was moving around the room, inspecting the window and the office furniture that littered it. The alarms had gone off, along with the emergency lights, but the room was still bright enough to see. The light source was coming from a cracked door and Daryl went over to inspect it, a guard's baton in his hand.

Lori watched him, her face twisted in pain. He opened the door using the baton and then quickly turned his face away in disgust.

With the latest contraction passed, Lori got to her feet and went to his side. They had stumbled upon what appeared to be a staffroom with large windows along one wall that let in a lot of natural light. The corpses of several guards were scattered around the room; they had blown their brains out.

"What do we do?" she asked, looking over her shoulder at the commotion behind her as the Walkers clamoured to get in.

Without answering her, Daryl moved further into the room and started collecting the guard's weapons, sometimes prying their guns from stiff fingers. The room reeked of decomposition and Lori felt her stomach flip. The nausea increased as Daryl knocked over a guard that was sitting at the table. The corpse collapsed to the floor, its head striking against the carpet and splitting opened. Rotting maggot infested brain oozed out and she gagged. She turned to the garbage bin closest to her as acid rushed up her oesophagus and she heaved.

When she was done puking, she looked over at Daryl who was watching her, his face void of emotion. Lori offered him a look that she hoped expressed her apology and embarrassment. He returned her look with a simple shrug and then got to work dragging the exploded-skull guard towards what she assumed was a closet.

Lori stood back watching him, suddenly feeling vulnerable as the adrenaline from their chase wore off. She looked down past her belly to her soaked pants, while one hand sought out to touch the fabric. The fluid appeared to be clear and she breathed a sigh of relief, it was small consolation under the circumstances, but it was something.

A door squeaked and Daryl whistled to get her attention. She looked up to see that he had found a storage closet that also seemed to be a first aid room.

"I'll get what's useful out of here then use it to dump these guys," he told her already stepping into the closet. "You check under the sink for somethin' to clean this place up a bit."

"We're not staying here…" Lori looked between Daryl, the four dead guards and then the frenzied Walkers who were still pounding on the glass. She knew they didn't have any other option, but the idea terrified her and she wasn't quite ready to accept the reality of their situation.

Daryl tossed an armful of supplies onto the table and finally looked over at her, "You got a better idea, speak up."


	3. Chapter 3

Lori certainly didn't have a better plan and her shoulders slumped as she began to accept that this was really going to happen. At her obvious physical resignation, Daryl nodded toward the kitchen sink again, silently telling her to get on with it. Clearly done with the matter, he turned his back on her and headed back toward the closet, then paused midstride. He looked around the room before crouching down to undress the guard whose skull had split in two.

"What are you doing?" Lori asked him, her stomach flipping at the sounds the corpse made as Daryl forced it into a sitting position. Unable to watch any further, she headed over to the sink to look for bleach. He was right; they would need to make the area as sanitary as possible for her to - for the baby to come.

Daryl looked up at her like she had sprouted two heads, his hands supporting the dead guard's upper body. "Playin' dress up," he muttered sarcastically. "Gonna need a blanket, ain't we? Do I gotta explain everythin' to ya?" He released his hold on the guard and let the body fall to the ground again with a sickening crunch.

Standing back up Daryl inspected the jacket. Lori stared at him, not sure that she wanted to be anywhere near the clothing article, much less wrap her newborn in it. She wasn't expecting a hand crochet blanket or anything, but she figured there had to be something else, preferably something that hadn't been touching a rotting corpse for months.

Apparently satisfied, Daryl tossed the jacket onto a chair and then headed back to the closet. He paused, catching her blank stare. "Yer havin' a baby ain't ya?" He stalked into the closet and started rummaging around. "What'd ya think came after all the pukin', pissin' every god damn ten minutes and the…" he poked his head out and gestured to her swollen belly.

Lori ran her fingers over her tummy. Of course she knew what came next… her hesitation was not coming from her own lack of knowledge, but rather from his. "Do you even know what you're doing?" she asked.

Daryl looked her up and down and then disappeared into the closet. "Nope."

Shaking her head in disbelief, Lori wanted to pinch herself. She couldn't believe she was having this conversation with Daryl Dixon of all people. "Hershel said that I might not be able to deliver…" she paused, considering how she would continue. She didn't want to create anymore tension, but if he was going to be the one to do this, he needed to have full disclosure. "… vaginally," she finished.

"You think I ain't never cut nothin' up before?" Daryl appeared again carrying more supplies from inside the room. He placed a jug of water and a brick of paper towels down on the table, keeping his eyes on her.

"Were you tryin' to keep it alive?" She asked, still standing next to the sink, her hand resting over her belly protectively.

Daryl shrugged. "One time. A 'coon."

"Do I look like a raccoon?!" Lori was unable to keep the incredulousness out of her tone. She waved her hand to indicate her body. "Assuming that's what you meant," she drawled softly trying to keep calm. Another contraction started and she leaned on the counter as she rode it out, breathing deeply in through her nose, then out through her mouth. She felt more in control over this one and she rode the pain in waves, counting the seconds until it passed.

Daryl rolled his eyes and went back to the guard that was closest to the closet. "'Stead of gettin' your panties in a twist why don'cha get somethin' to clean that up - 'less you wanna sit in that guys brains." Daryl dragged the first corpse into the closet and then started towards the guard on the couch. He closed his hands around the man's ankles and hauled him across the room, leaving a trail of decomposed fatty tissue and blood streaked across the carpet.

Lori looked at the couch to see white fragments of skull embedded into the leather. She felt sick at the thought of giving birth to her baby there. She'd known since she took the test that she wouldn't be whisked off to the hospital to give birth, she shook her head - and this was a step up from the ditch she had envisioned. She ought to be grateful.

"Just get the damn bleach," Daryl barked, startling her. "I thought you were into all that cleanin' and cookin' shit," he commented, looking over at her again.

With the contraction ebbing, Lori leaned over to look under the counter, glad that they were having an actual conversation to distract her. "Out of necessity," she told him. "It's just always been my job - bein' at home while Rick worked. I don't like it," she straightened up holding a bottle of all purpose cleaner. "But people need food and clean clothes... besides, I'm a lousy shot." Daryl grunted in agreement and she ignored him. "I contribute where I can... It isn't a dog and pony show but it's important." She looked down at the label on the bottle then leaned over to try the taps. There was no water - obviously, she thought to herself and looked at Daryl who didn't comment on her blunder. She looked at the bottle of water on the table and assumed that Daryl would want to save it for something else, so she eyed the cleaner again. "It needs to be diluted," she explained, looking over at Daryl.

"Use it anyway," he told her coming out of the closet, a guard's shirt in his hands.

Lori nodded and made her way over to the couch. She hesitated before unscrewing the cap and touched her belly lightly. She wasn't sure what a short term exposure to the chemical would do. She figured exposing the baby to germs and infected blood straight out of the womb wouldn't be much better. Decided, she used her sleeve to cover her face and poured the chemical onto the couch.

The chemical was stronger than she'd anticipated and it instantly set her eyes and chest on fire. She coughed harshly and turned away from the couch to get some air, closing her stinging eyes. Lori felt Daryl snatch the bottle out of her hand and she heard him set it down on the table. Seconds later he was pulling her away from the couch as she continued to cough, her throat burning.

"Gotta do everythin' 'round here?" he was muttering in annoyance, though his eyes were soft as he pushed her onto a chair on the other side of the room.

Lori scratched at her itching, burning eyes and she leaned over, as far as her belly would allow, coughing. Her hair slid over her shoulders creating a curtain around her and she closed her eyes, lightheaded from the chemical and lack of oxygen in the room. Suddenly, she heard the sound of glass shattering and she looked up through a sheen of tears to see that Daryl had smashed the window with a chair. She gulped in the fresh air and watched him as he started wiping the couch down using a throw cushion. He picked the bones out of the leather and inspected the fragments before tossing them out the window along with the cushion. He looked at his chemical drenched hands and shrugged. "Needed ta' wash 'em anyway," he shrugged and turned to look at her, letting her know that he was speaking to her.

Lori's warning about chemical burns stopped short as another contraction gripped her. She bent over further, clutching her belly with both hands as the baby shifted and slid further down inside her. Her eyes widened with surprise as the pressure increased and she felt the urge to push. She'd never had a natural birth before so she wasn't sure how to respond. Instead of pushing, she reached to the side and gripped the edge of the counter, panting through the pain and discomfort.

Daryl averted his eyes then turned his back to her. He looked around the room and then reached over the couch to grab the curtains. He tore them off the rails in one smooth motion and spread them over the couch, tucking them in around the cushions.

Lori squeezed her eyes closed as the contraction ended, but was caught off guard when another began right away. She pulled herself to her feet and leaned on the counter, her feet spread shoulder width apart. The baby felt like it was between her knees. "Rick," she groaned, suddenly not caring that she was there with Daryl Dixon - it could have been anyone in the world. Her concern shifted to the one person who wasn't there. "I need -," a cry escaped her throat.

"You need to get'ch'yer ass onto that couch so as I can see," he was at her side in two strides, his arms wrapped around her waist, supporting her. He half-carried her across the room to the couch and helped her sit down. The contraction was easing off again but she could feel the next one already.

"They're on top of each other," she panted fumbling with the button on her jeans. "I want these off," Lori muttered, tugging at her pants, her fingers moving hastily as she fumbled with the fabric. She arched her back to ease the pain of the contraction as her muscles cramped around her belly and spine. Her face twisted in pain and she was overwhelmed by the feeling of needing to push. Daryl's fingers worked their way under the waistband of her jeans and she tried to shove him away until she realized he was helping her.

He worked her jeans over her hips and then slid them off her.

Lori did push him away when he came back for her underwear. "I can do it," she snapped at him. She knew he was trying to help and that she was beyond dignity at this point, but she felt irrationally frustrated: with him, the damn Walkers who wouldn't shut up and the whole damn situation. As she pushed her underwear down her thighs she glanced at Daryl out of the corner of her eye. He had averted his gaze, his face twisted into a small smile.

"What?" she growled kicking her panties into the floor. She collapsed back against the arm of the sofa, spent.

"Guess that just leaves Glenn and T as the only ones who haven't taken your pants off, yet," he said, moving to kneel on the couch.

Lori felt her eyes widen at his statement and she wondered if he'd actually just said that. When he looked her dead on, that stupid smile still playing at the corner of his mouth, she shook her head and turned her eyes upwards. "Well that was uncivilized," she said to the ceiling tiles.

He cleared his throat and she flicked her faze back to him, realizing that he was nervous. She hadn't recognized it straight away because she'd never seen it before. He always seemed to be confident about whatever it was he was doing. She took pity on him and let the comment go. "You're supposed to be nice to me right now," she joked lightly. "That's how this works."

Daryl scoffed and got off the couch. She felt panicked that he was going to leave until she saw him pick up the jacket off the back of couch. He returned with it a moment later and draped it over her bare legs. Lori started to thank him but was jackknifed by another contraction that had her pushing herself up.

"I gotta push," she told him, sucking in air through her gritted teeth. "Check to see if I'm dilated," she instructed him, her face twisted with pain.

Daryl kneeled on the couch in front of her bent legs. "I don't know nothin' 'bout that shit," he admitted looking at her over the crest of her knees. He bent down to peer under the jacket. "I can see somethin'… damn, looks like a head."

Lori nodded. "That's good," she assured him. "I gotta push," she repeated, this time crunching forward to press down on the baby.

Moving awkwardly between her legs, Daryl used both hands to push her knees further apart. Lori squeezed her eyes closed as she pushed, her chin tucked against her chest. She felt Daryl's hands as he reached in between her legs to help guide the baby out.

"Lori," his voice was urgent. "Stop… or you'll bust yourself…" he told her.

Panting, red-faced and sticky with sweat, Lori looked up at him. She breathed heavily as she watched him cross the room, all the while fighting the urge to push. Daryl opened the first-aid kit and pulled out something thin and silver. Her eyes widened as she saw that he was unwrapping a sterilized scalpel. She felt her head shake as he moved back into his former position between his legs. "Do you know what you're doing?" she asked.

"No," Daryl didn't meet her eyes.

Lori reached up to wipe away the sweat that was collecting on her brow. "Don't cut the baby," she pleaded, tears building in her eyes - she laid back against the sofa arm and crossed her arms over her face, blocking out the room. The cut was excruciating but quick. Her face felt like it had caught fire and then suddenly the temperature changed like someone had thrown a bucket of icy water over her. She shivered, teeth chattering and the room faded away until it felt like she was sinking under-water.

She could hear Daryl's voice, but it sounded so far away and muffled that she couldn't make any sense of his words. Her eyes fluttered, but she couldn't drift off. She blinked and suddenly his face was inches from hers as he leaned over her knees, one of his hands cupping her face, his fingers roughly patting her cheek.

She cried out as the room rushed back into focus around her, the pain coming back with it.

"Better stay awake or I'll kick your ass," he warned her, releasing his hold on her face. "You with me?" he asked, tilting his head as he searched her eyes.

Lori nodded and watched him move back into position. It was as he was readjusting the jacket that she noticed that his hands were slick and shiny with smooth red blood - hers.

"You gotta push again," Daryl instructed to which she nodded mutely. Her legs trembled wildly and she leaned forward again, using her waning energy to do as she was told. She just needed to get the baby out. That's all that mattered. "Again, Lori," his voice was firm and calm and she nodded, bearing down. She could feel him twisting the baby and she wondered how he knew what to do. The thought was gone again as she tried to focus everything she had left on pushing.

She felt the baby slide free and then a rush of pain and burning as she collapsed back against the couch.

The baby was in Daryl's hands and she watched him use the scalpel to cut the cord. "You need to tie it," she told him hoarsely, her voice sounded so weak - even to her.

He got up from the couch, the baby draped across his forearm and it occurred to her that she couldn't hear anything. "Daryl… why isn't she crying?" Lori asked, watching with confusion as he flipped the baby over and held its tiny face up to his ear.

"Daryl," she tried to ask again.

"Shut the fuck up," he barked, listening. The baby had taken on a bluish tint and Lori knew she should be concerned, but she couldn't seem to figure out what was going on through the fog that had settled over her.

"Daryl," the word barely had any voice behind it. He ignored her as he focused all of his attention on the newborn in his arms. He tried pounding on its back, but when it remained still and quiet he lifted it up again and then closed his mouth around its nose, then sucked. He spit onto the floor and then repeated the process with the baby's mouth. He pounded the baby's back again and this time was rewarded with a soft cry.

The baby's cries picked up volume as its skin pinked and it started to jerk its arms and feet. The man holding the infant in his arms looked up to meet her gaze and he offered her a relieved smile.

Lori breathed a grateful sigh and let her eyes drift closed.


	4. Chapter 4

The day's events had drained all of her energy and Lori drifted between awake and asleep while she watched Daryl pace with her baby across the room. A girl - the idea warmed her. She knew that Rick would be happy; he'd always wanted a little girl. It had been a longstanding tension in their relationship - the decision about whether or not to have more children. Lori had never warmed up to the idea after the difficulties of her first pregnancy and birth. And Carl had been colicky… She shook her head, hopeful that this baby would be the glue that they needed to put their little family back together. She looked at the little girl in Daryl's arms and decided she would wait to name her until she and Rick could decide together.

Daryl had wrapped her daughter in the shirt that he had pilfered from one of the guard's bodies. "You're a natural," she rasped, her voice thin and faint. "Maybe you should be a midwife in another life."

He looked up from the baby then walked over to her, bouncing the bundle in his arms. "Here's yer mama," he transferred the baby smoothly onto her chest and she reached up to secure her in place.

Lori shared a grateful look with Daryl and then turned her attention to the newest member of their little group. "Hi, beautiful," she stroked her fingers over the baby's soft hair and then pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. She looked up when Daryl moved out of the corner of her eye and she saw him gather up the paper towels, water jug, and a plastic bag off the table.

"Big ass baby," Daryl commented, eyeing the newborn as he made his way back over to her. He took a seat on the couch at her feet. She couldn't see what he was doing over the rise of her still bent legs, but she suddenly realized how sticky she was.

"I can take care of it," she offered, trying to sit up with the baby still on her chest. The little girl fussed at the movement while Lori groaned as her body protested.

"S'all right," Daryl assured, her already unscrewing the cap on the water jug. "Rest yourself. We gotta get on movin' soon."

Lying back down, Lori tried to ignore the feeling of being vulnerable and exposed. Daryl didn't seem to care, so she turned her attention back to the baby while he wiped off her thighs and cleaned up the afterbirth. The paper towel was rough against her skin as he worked quickly, but she was grateful to him for everything he was doing. She hoped he had been gentler when he'd wiped down the baby, though. Daryl made a sound and tossed a handful of paper towel to the floor, thick and slimy with deep red blood.

"Normal to bleed this much?" he asked, holding up the paper towel for her inspection.

She felt her stomach turn at the sight of his hand, slick with clotted blood as he gripped the drenched towel in his fingers. Lori shook her head, not sure. "You did cut me," she said, pursing her lips.

Daryl nodded and went back to focusing on getting her cleaned up. He worked without speaking for a long time. "What're you callin' her?" he finally asked, breaking the silence.

Lori looked down at the baby who had begun to fuss and root around on her chest. Acting on instinct, she pulled herself into more of an inclined position against the couch, cringing as she had to unglue herself from the curtain that she was using as a sheet.

Breastfeeding was apparently like riding a bike because it came back to her easily. Using the hand that wasn't supporting the baby, she unbuttoned her top shirt and then slid the other one up. She freed her breast from her bra and moved the infant into position. Her daughter's first latch was painful and Lori adjusted herself in her mouth so that they would both more comfortable. "There you go, baby," Lori trailed her fingers over smooth brand new skin and ended with her palm closed around a tiny foot. The baby drank hungrily and Lori was grateful that she had been eating better over the last couple of weeks since arriving at the prison. At least she didn't have to worry about undernourished milk.

"Well?" Daryl prodded, getting to his feet. He headed toward the kitchenette, carrying the plastic bag and cleaning supplies with him.

Lori shook her head. "Darylina?" she joked, keeping her eyes fixed on the nursing baby.

Daryl snorted. "That's a shitty name." He tossed the bag into the sink then went back over to the door. He opened it to peer outside into the other room where Lori could still hear the Walkers pounding on the glass.

"What do you suggest?" she asked, smiling softly at the sounds the baby made as she drank.

Daryl closed the door again and turned around - Lori didn't miss it when he snapped the lock in place. "Lil' Ass-Kicker," he muttered, walking quickly to the other side of the room.

Lori chuckled and pressed a kiss to the soft warm skin on her baby's head, too exhausted to think of a clever response. Sleep was pulling at her heavily but she fought it back.

Daryl picked up her pants and underwear that had been tossed to the side and grabbed a fistful of paper towels before stalking back over to her. "Dinner time's over," he told her handing her her clothing.

"What's going on?" Lori sat up, her teeth sinking into her lower lip. The baby voiced her displeasure at the abrupt disruption of her meal and Lori offered her a sympathetic look. She flipped the curtain down off the back of the couch and laid the baby down on the fresh surface.

"Walkers'r tearin' the place apart… gotta move," he handed her the paper towels. "Yer still bleedin'," he explained, already walking back to the other side of the room.

Lori pulled her underwear on slowly, wincing at the pain of her cut and normal post-birth aches. She folded the towels on the crotch seam of her panties and pulled them up to her mid-thigh. She kept one eye on the baby as she pushed herself to her feet, her legs trembling with the effort. As she dressed she watched Daryl across the room.

As he was checking the ammunition in the guard's guns, Lori wondered what his plan was for getting out of there. As far as she could see there was only one way out and that was the door through which they had come in. It didn't feel like a great option to her, even at the best of times. And especially now, with a newborn. The sound of tearing fabric refocused her and she watched, puzzled by Daryl tearing and then retying the last guard's shirt. Seeing that she was dressed he approached her with the fabric.

"Pick 'er up," he ordered, holding the shirt out.

Lori did as she was instructed, gasping in pain when she tried to straighten - she held the baby tightly to her chest. "I'm okay," she insisted when Daryl reached out to grip her elbow. She assured him with a weak smile.

Daryl released her and nodded. There was a loud crash from the other side of the wall that sounded like the window tearing out of the frame then shattering. The impact shook the room around them and the Walkers' snarling intensified in volume as they climbed over the half-wall and into the other room.

While she was distracted by the sudden commotion, Daryl had begun to wrap the shirt around her, securing the baby to her chest. The makeshift sling kept her daughter's small warm body snug against her own and Lori was impressed by the ingenuity. She hadn't even thought about how she was going to move with a baby in her arms… the thought gave her pause. She reached out to touch his hand as he tied a knot under her daughter's bottom.

"Maybe you should take her," Lori suggested. His expression stiffened and she squeezed his hand to silence him. "In case I can't run," she explained.

Daryl flicked her hand away and finished tying the knot before testing its tightness. "I'm gettin' you both through this," his tone was hard and firm. "She deserves a mother." He pulled on the sling to make sure it was secure and then turned her back on her, giving her no time to argue any further.

"What's the plan?" Lori asked, looking nervously to the door that was trembling under the weight of the Walkers on the other side.

Daryl handed her a gun and kept the other two for himself. He tucked the second piece into his back pocket and looked up, jutting his chin towards a spot over her shoulder. Lori turned around, her eyes lifting up to see a large metal vent.

Lori whipped around as the door groaned on its hinges while Daryl leapt across the room and climbed onto the couch. He slid his fingers into the grate and tugged, easily pulling it free. "You first," he held one arm out and flexed his fingers, urging her to join him.

She climbed up beside him, grateful for his steadying hand gripping her bicep. She reached up, wincing as her stretched stomach muscles flexed. Gripping the ceiling she pulled herself up, though her strength was minimal. Daryl did most of the work as she slipped his locked hands under her foot and boosted her into the metal ducts. She was mindful of the baby when she caught the edge with her knee and then clamoured in.

Once she was settled in the vent, she crawled forward to make room for him. A loud crash shook the vent around her and she heard Daryl fire a couple of rounds. The space wasn't wide enough for her to turn around completely, so she looked over her shoulder for him. She held her breath as she waited for him to join her, fear grabbing her with its icy fingers.

When he didn't come, Lori was beginning to wonder if she should go back. The only thing that stopped her was the tiny baby strapped her chest. She looked down at the little girl, torn about what she should do.

A rattling sound behind her caught her attention and she reached for her gun. A relieved sigh escaped her chest when she saw that it was Daryl climbing up into the small space, his finger still resting on the trigger of his gun. The sounds of Walkers struggling over one another and crashing around the room in the process filled the air.

"Are you okay?" She asked him.

"Just go," his hand collided with the small of her back and he shoved her forward roughly. "'fore they tear this whole damn place apart."

Lori startled to crawl, struggling with the bulk in front of her and the pain that radiated from her abdomen and from where Daryl had cut her. She could feel the warm sticky sensation of blood soaking into the paper towel. In spite of it all, she kept crawling forward into the darkness, the metal vent smooth under her hands.

They had reached the second four-way intersection by the time she needed to stop to rest. Her arms were trembling so badly that she wasn't sure that they would hold her up for another second. She turned a corner and sat back against the side of the duct. "Need a minute," she let her head fall back and her eyes close while she tried to catch her breath.

"Take one," Daryl took the wall on the other side of the four-way. "Gotta think 'bout what we're gonna do next anyway."

Lori nodded and looked down at the baby who had been surprisingly quiet. She tilted her head, surprised to find that the little one had gone to sleep, clearly satisfied with her spot snuggled up against her mother. Lori's own eyes drifted closed and she felt the temptation to let herself drift off for a little bit. "I prefer Darylina over Kick-Ass," she mumbled, rubbing the baby's back through the fabric of the sling.

"Lil' Ass-Kicker," Daryl corrected, watching her carefully.

Lori gave a slow, low chuckle. "Well that makes it so much better. Thanks for clarifying," she joked, letting her hand fall to her side heavily. Her knuckles collided against the metal vent with a muted clanging sound.

"C'mon," Daryl moved first. "Best get goin' so we can get back."

She groaned inwardly but complied, knowing that he was right. Moving lethargically, she pulled herself forward, this time taking up the rear while Daryl led her through the tunnels. Lori was grateful that he was in front of her because it gave her the opportunity to slow her pace. Every movement had become an excruciating ordeal. When Daryl finally came to a halt, she peered around him to find that he had stopped in front of another grate. Without saying anything he popped it out of place and stuck his head down to make sure they were in the clear. Making a satisfied sound he slipped through the hole and into what appeared to be a security booth. His feet landed on the desk and she heard something crunch under his booth. Daryl froze at the sound and glanced around to make sure it hadn't drawn any extra attention.

While he was busy Lori shifted, one hand holding the baby in place while the other steadied her on the wall. She slid her legs through the hole first and waited, her feet dangling. When Daryl turned to her, she moved forward, holding onto the wall still. He bore the brunt of her weight as he lowered her while she focused on making sure the baby didn't get hurt as she descended.

"Thanks," she whispered once her feet were on solid ground.

Lori's eyes scanned the space, taking in the two desks and an overturned chair. Papers had been scattered across the floor in someone's haste. Behind her was a solid looking piece of glass that overlooked a cell block similar to theirs, with large windows along the wall opposite the cells.

Upon further inspection, she could see that these cells were occupied, not by survivors, but by the walking dead.

"Let's get outta' here," Daryl jumped off the desk then helped her down.

The motion caused Lori to feel woozy and she waivered against him. Daryl didn't seem to notice and she didn't bring it to his attention. Instead, she blinked rapidly to clear her vision and pushed on, following Daryl closely. He opened the door to the booth and led her along the catwalk. They dodged the mottled grey arms that reached through the bars at them, long emaciated fingers scratching the air. Lori's arms folded around her daughter protectively and she hugged the railing to stay as far out of their reach as possible.

"Once we get outside we can duck 'round to the other side of the fence… if they didn't lock it or somethin'," Daryl was saying as he checked his gun again. "Could be Walkers in the yard, so be ready."

Lori held up her own gun to show him and they descended the metal staircase to the first level. She had to keep a solid grip on the railing as she stairs swam before her eyes and she lost count of how many were left. Fighting back a wave of nausea, she rested her hand on Daryl's shoulder as he led her out of the cellblock and into a cafeteria that was identical to their own. "Déjà vu," she mumbled. "We'll have to let Rick know… there might be more food here… maybe another infirmary."

The door was open with a simple shove and they were struck by fresh air and daylight. Once outside they found that the door had been forced from the outside at some point. Maybe during the riots… maybe afterwards. Lori stayed close to Daryl as she searched the yard for Walkers or someone from their group. The baby fussed and started to wail, her cries sounding like a new kitten's mews. Lori figured that she was probably getting hungry again, or grumpy from all of the moving about - she could relate.

They moved quickly across the lot to the building that housed C-Block. Daryl kept his weapon raised, though it looked like Rick and the others had already cleared out most, if not all of the Walkers in the yard. Lori breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that it looked like the rest of their trip back to the group would be uneventful. She was feeling increasingly woozy and there was no mistaking the sensation of blood soaking through the layers of paper towel and into the fabric of her jeans.

Lori wasn't sure which door they were entering through; she didn't recognize the location, but she was sure they would be able to navigate their way back… Daryl had swept the building several times so she was confident that he knew where to go.

"Door should be locked," Daryl muttered as he pulled it open and ushered her inside. "Looks like someone jammed it open," he pointed out the tool marks along the frame and the piece of wood that had been wedged under one on the hinges. He pulled it out and inspected it before tossing it on the ground.

Lori looked around the room where they had entered; she didn't recognize this part of the prison at all. The baby was still crying softly and she stroked the back of her head in an attempt to comfort her. Her second sweep of the room brought her eyes back to Daryl who was looking at her strangely.

"What?" she asked, tilting her head.

Daryl's eyes squinted. "Y'okay?" he asked, finally looking away as he pulled the door closed. "Breathin' like you was a Walker or somethin'." Turning back to her he looked her over.

Lori brushed off his scrutiny. "I think this is the boiler room," she peered down a short hallway where she could see the corner of a desk and a set of stairs against the far wall. The room had plenty of natural light. "Know how to get back from here?"

Instead of answering her, he started walking down the narrow hallway. She shook her head slightly and followed, sliding her gun into her back pocket. Daryl moved quickly toward the industrial stairs while she dragged behind a little. Her legs had started trembling and she wasn't sure if they would hold her much longer. Keeping one hand on the mewing baby's back, she reached down to find the crotch of her jeans saturated. Lori lifted her hand to inspect her bloodied fingers, feeling fear begin to well up from her stomach.

Daryl had reached the top of the stairs and she followed him as best she could, her breaths shallow. Her heart pounded against her ribcage, so loud she was sure Daryl would be able to hear it. Lori's vision swam and the room faded in and out around her. She kept her fingers closed around the railing as she watched Daryl open the large metal door. She remembered as a young girl trying on her grandfather's prescription lenses, the room around her blurred and distorted, like it appeared to her now.

They moved into the hallway and Lori paused. Daryl was reacting to something but she couldn't hear him over the roaring in her ears. She was also terribly distracted by the cold sweat that felt like it was collecting in the small of her back and along her forehead. She turned in what seemed like slow motion and to see what had him so agitated. Black figures moved unsteadily in the shadows down the hall, the angles of their faces cut sharp by the darkness that cloaked them.

"Take her," Lori mumbled, already untying the knots that Daryl had secured on the sling.

Daryl fired three shots, easily taking down the Walkers that led the herd. Their collapsed bodies slowed the others as they stumbled over the fallen corpses. "Run," he barked at her, shoving her in the other direction.

Lori's legs had turned to uncooperative jelly beneath her and she hit the wall with a heavy thud, knocking her head against the metal frame of the door they had come through. "Can't," she told him, her voice had turned to liquid. "Please, Daryl," she held up her hand to show him her soaked hands. Large blood clots clung to her dripping crimson fingers - her eyes joined his and they both took in the growing stain of blood that had worked its way down her thighs.

Daryl grabbed her again and started dragging her, firing at the herd again. "I'm getting' you back," he ground out.

"Please, Daryl," Lori rested one trembling hand on his shoulder. "Get the baby to Hershel," she sniffed. "Tell Rick," her voice cracked and she swallowed around the lump in her throat. "And Carl that I loved them every second." She released him and slid the sling over her head. Kissing her daughter's forehead, one tear slipped down her cheek and she muttered an l love you. With determination, she pushed the crying baby into his arms. "Go," she ordered.

Daryl hesitated, sliding the baby onto his shoulder.

"Go, Daryl!" They both turned back towards the rasping growling Walkers who were only a few feet away. Without a second glance in her direction Daryl started to run at full speed, her daughter tucked safely against his chest. Lori pulled out her gun and started firing at random in an attempt to slow the herd down. When her gun clicked on empty she tossed it to the side and opened the door beside her. She dragged herself inside before pulling the door closed behind her. The door had been damaged and wouldn't shut properly, so she left it, falling heavily to her knees. Using the last of her energy, she crawled down the stairs, her heart slowing down until it felt like it wasn't beating at all. She collapsed on the floor in the middle of the room, sticky with blood, sweat, and tears.

The room faded away and she breathed out slowly, peace claiming her - finally.


	5. Chapter 5

Rubble and torn up concrete broke up under his feet as he ran through the dark hallways of the prison. There wasn't much light at all and it was real hard for him to see more than a few feet in front of him. He could hear Walkers all around them, but he wasn't sure exactly where they were on account of not bein' able to see. The stone walls echoed somethin' too, trickin' his ears.

He'd secured Lil' Ass-Kicker to his chest with two hastily tied knots, without slowing down. She was makin' a weird kind o' sound; it was barely a cry and he hoped it didn't mean there was somethin' wrong with her. He wondered if she was cryin' for her Ma, but then figured that was a pretty stupid idea. Baby was barely even a couple of hours old. No way she even knew who her Ma was... or that she would remember her at all, probably.

The halls were full of Walkers, moving in packs of different sizes. He did his best to avoid them, but it was hard with the baby makin' that sound, drawin' em in. He'd tried to do what Lori had done, rubbin' her back and head, but it'd just pissed her off more. Little thing was probably hungry, but they didn't have a thing to feed her. He'd have to do a run to find somethin' soon. And some diapers too, seein' as how she'd already taken a piss and a dump in the shirt that he'd wrapped her in after she'd been born. It smelled awful, but he figured they'd deal with it later when they weren't being chased down.

Maybe that's why she was cryin' like that. 'Cause she was covered in shit and piss… hell he'd probably be pissed about that too if it was him. He wondered why there were so many damn Walkers in the building and where'd they'd come from.

Lil' Ass-Kicker started to squirm against his chest - she'd worked herself up into one hell'v a tiff, her little legs curled up. Daryl looked down at her to see her head bobbin' wildly as his body rose and fell with each stride he took. He'd forgotten babies had shitty necks. Reachin' down he closed his palm against the back of her head and pulled it to him to keep it in place.

Her cries quieted and he looked down at her again. She had closed his mouth around the button on his shirt and was makin' a sucking sound. "Ain't gonna get nothin' from that, sweetheart," he told her, pulling the shirt away. He wasn't sure what'd been splattered on his shirt since Carol'd last cleaned it, but he figured it wasn't somthin' a baby ought'ta be putting in its mouth. "Don't worry, I'll getcha somethin' soon 'nough," he promised.

He wondered what they'd feed her now that Lori was dead and he was surprised when his heart hurt a little, like he had a stitch or a pulled a muscle or somethin'. Shouldn't've had to happen, him leavin' her behind like that. Wasn't right… but he'd make sure the baby got back to Rick… and Hershel, like Lori'd asked. He'd take care of her.

The door to C-Block was closed when he got to it and he pounded on it with the back of his fist. The lock rattled and then it opened. Daryl shoved his way past Glenn and found himself in the common area, the rest of the group scattered around. They were all just watchin' him like he was one of them freaks in a side-show as he stood there, chest heavin', the baby suckin' on his button again, whimpering into his shirt.

His eyes met the boy's first - Carl, who was standin' next to the younger Greene girl, both their eyes wide like they ain't never seen a baby before.

Daryl looked to Rick next. Their leader was further back by the windows, his hand restin' on the butt of his sidearm. They locked eyes for a long ass time and then he saw Rick's eyes flick over his shoulder toward the door he'd just come in. Everyone else looked to the empty frame, too.

"Where is she?" Rick finally asked, his voice guarded.

The word dead caught in Daryl's throat. He'd thought he'd be able to say it out loud, like it was no problem. Lori wasn't the first to die and wouldn't be the last neither. But it kinda stuck in his throat like Rick was holdin' it in place with that look on his face. Instead of sayin' it, Daryl shook his head. Words were bullshit anyway.

Rick released the hold on his gun and his arm rose, reaching out to Daryl as he took a step in his direction. Or maybe he was reachin' out for the wife who wasn't never comin' back. Tears were already formin' in the other man's eyes and Daryl wanted to look away. He wasn't much for this emotional kinda stuff… Rick'd be better off lookin' at someone else like that - someone who could offer him somethin'. Someone who hadn't been the one to leave her behind.

No one moved until Rick's hand closed over his face and a sob tore from his throat, like he was a savage Indian. "No!" The word came again and again, breakin' in the middle. The cop crashed to his knees on the ground before him and Daryl looked around the room at the others to see if they were gonna do somethin' about it. They all stood there, like useless sacks o' shit.

Daryl turned to the boy who was still frozen, starin' at the ground. He'd just lost his mother and no one had a single fuckin' thing to say about it. Daryl'd known that feelin'. Everyone lookin' at you like you'd grown another head.

"Bring the baby here," Hershel said from where he was sitting across the room, closer to the bars that led into their cellblock. Daryl had forgotten he was still holdin' her, she was still cryin' against him, her tiny balled fists and face goin' all red. He carefully untied the knots and carried the little girl over to the old man, then laid her in his arms.

"It's a girl," Daryl told Hershel, reachin' out to touch her little forehead with two fingers before he left her there to be seen to.

"Where did you leave her?" Carl asked, speakin' over his old man's cries.

Daryl took a step in his direction. "I didn't leave her," he insisted, like he owed the kid a damn explanation. He knew Carl didn't mean nothin' by it, but it wasn't like he'd done somethin' wrong anyway. "She couldn't keep goin'… she was bleedin'."

Carl nodded again and went back to lookin' at the floor. Daryl approached the boy and crouched down in front of him, restin' his hand on his shoulder. "She wanted me to tell ya that she loved you," he told him, feeling his throat tighten like someone was grippin' it. He tilted his head down so that he could see the boy's downturned face and the grip on his throat tightened again when he saw that his eyes were shinin' and bright with tears. He'd expected him to cry, but he hadn't expected it to make him feel all sick and knotted up inside.

"Where is she?" Rick asked again as he got to his feet, scrubbing his face with the back of his hand. The other man swallowed hard and he picked up a bloody fire axe that had been discarded on the floor within his reach. Their leader's eyes were wild, but his face was like stone, like he'd lost his fuckin' mind.

XXXX

Lori had waivered most of her life between being a believer and being an atheist, and then everything in-between. After the world had fallen apart she had leaned more towards non-belief, and now she hoped she was right. Because if she was dead, and this was heaven, then she felt sorely misled. Unless she was in hell - she was an unintentional adulterer, after all - that would make more sense. Hell would be the kind of place that might feel like hard concrete and stink of drying blood.

Everything was pulsing around her and she realized that it was her heart thudding slowly, but steadily, assaulting her painfully from the inside, as though it were punishing her for not being dead. Because she wasn't, apparently. But she was very very weak and she could tell her body was still failing her.

Consciousness alone was a challenge, so she let it go.

"They don't have a mother…"

"I'm sure she's around here somewhere."

"Maybe she got eaten."

Lori cringed at the conversation as it floated back to her from the depths of her memories… It hadn't even been that long ago, but it felt like a lifetime. Things had changed since then - her boy wasn't her boy anymore. He couldn't even look at her most days, and when he did, there was so much hatred and impatience in his eyes. She knew it was bound to happen - she'd taken too much for too long from him.

She'd counted on him to help her be a better person. She'd thrived on his innocence and goodness, maybe too much. It seemed some days that it had been all used up by this world, or maybe by her. Maybe she had sucked him dry while she had been trying to protect him.

"I'm a good mother."

Lori almost laughed as her own voice insisted from somewhere back in time. Closer to when all of this had started. Thin tears slipped from her eyes and slid over her temples.

"I don't want you to worry. Your mama's not goin' anywhere."

Liar.

"Carl," the word was barely a rasp in the otherwise silent room. Her voice was thick and felt sticky and dry in her mouth. Lori hadn't had a chance to apologize to him, for everything. She hadn't been able to tell him how much she loved him, how much she saw in him. How good, and strong, and brave he was…

Lori looked around the room - she was alone. And no one was coming.

She'd always relied on men for things: Rick, Shane, Hershel… and today Daryl. With Rick it had been the promise of a partnership and love. She was ashamed that with Shane it had been different. If one were to be crude about it, it came down to the basics of survival - she'd traded sex for safety and protection. And sweet old Hershel, who'd stepped into her life when her husband had all but stepped out. He'd become the friend that she hadn't deserved over the last several months.

And Daryl - her unexpected backwoods knight. She chuckled at the thought.

"She deserves a mother."

Lori's chest shuddered as his gruff voice resounded in her ears, like he had just spoken the words. Her sweet baby girl, who looked so much like her daddy and brother. She had Rick written all over her - she hoped Rick would see it too.

Lori'd been saved a million times. This time no one was comin' and it was about time she saved herself. It was her turn to be her own hero.

Her first movements were agonizingly slow. She used the rusty pipe that had been fixed to the wall closest to her. When her numb fingers connected with the metal they tingled, serving to pull her further out of her woozy confused state. The pipe felt solid, and it felt good to have something to hold onto.

She got to her knees first, and then looked down at the spot where she had been laying. She felt the loss over every drop of blood that was pooled on the concrete. The next step was to get to her feet, and she trembled viciously with the effort. Her body started to give out, but she clung to the wall - if she went down now she wouldn't be getting back up. She shuffled towards the stairs, bent-double, clutching her stomach.

The desk that had been pushed up against one wall served as a valuable resting point, and she used the opportunity to find a weapon. A wooden handled carpenter's knife rested next to an old black land-line telephone, and she picked it up. The wood was well worn and smooth against her palm as she pushed away from the desk and staggered the rest of the way to the stairs. She'd never felt as determined in her life as she did in the moment.

She knew that when she died she'd come back as something else… but she had never imagined that it would be a better and stronger person… someone she liked just a little more than the one she had even that morning.

Lori slowly pushed the damaged metal door open and peered out into the dark hallway. The Walkers were gone and she figured they had chased after Daryl and the baby… she hoped that she had held them back long enough for Daryl to get away. She clung to the wall, digging her fingernails into the concrete painfully as she fought back nausea and dizziness.

She knew she needed to move before another herd found her. She walked blindly, unsure of where exactly she was supposed to be going. Her pants clung to her uncomfortably and she was sure she was still bleeding heavily, but the shock had worn off, giving her a clearer head. The smell of blood was heavy in the air as she turned a corner and froze at the site of a couple of Walkers making a meal out of someone on the floor. The rest of the body had been ravaged but she recognized the pants that she had hand-washed a hundred times: T-Dog.

Lori felt tears blur her eyes, but she swallowed them back. The Walkers were so fixated on their meal that they didn't even notice her as she slipped past them and into the shadows. Another intersection came up quickly and she strained at the sound of her baby's cries echoing. Another sound pierced the air and she followed it: Rick.

Heart pounding, she pushed forward as quickly as she could. Dark splotches had begun to appear in the corners of her vision again, so she couldn't see it when the Walker suddenly stepped into her periphery. She was alerted to its presence only by the sound of its ragged breaths and the smell of its decomposing flesh. The dead prisoner's cold fingers reached for her and she pushed it away. Her minimal strength was barely enough to move it and it lunged at her. Lori's hand landed against its pasty rotting forehead and the skin felt loose against its skull, like it would tear away if she tugged on it. The thought disgusted her, but she kept her hand in place to hold it back. Its teeth lashed, centimetres from her wrist and it clawed at her. Lori gripped her knife tightly, then swung it upwards. The blade sunk into the spot just above the Walker's ear and it collapsed heavily to the ground.

Lori looked down to inspect her wrist; the skin hadn't been broken, thankfully. She stumbled away from the corpse and looked around her, maintaining her even breaths. It would her do no good to panic.

Her eyes scanned over the halls and she realized that she recognized the area.

Her body pitched forward and she collided with the wall across from her. Her feet felt like lead as she moved around the corner, breathing a sigh of relief when she was almost blinded by natural light. The door to their cellblock was open, and she could see Glenn's shirt-sleeve.

Rick's voice shattered her heart with its broken tone as it rose, "Where is she?"

The room came into view and she slumped against the doorframe, barely standing on her quivering legs. "I'm here, love," she said softly, though she could hardly get her voice behind the words.

The horrible cold sensation that had plagued her in the hall earlier with Daryl was back, and her body gave out on her. Her collapse was gradual as she slid down the wall. Her husband let go of the axe that he had been holding and it clattered to the ground. He started to stride towards her, but Glenn reached her first and her head lulled to the side until it was resting on his shoulder.

Hand's fumbled to support her rag-doll body and she felt someone's slide under her knees. Rick was lifting her and she heard Hershel's voice before there was nothing…

…When she came to she was on a bottom bunk and Rick was pulling her pants off. The fabric stuck to her painfully and he muttered an apology as he tore it away, along with her underwear with the clotted sopping paper towels. The scene appeared as though she was looking at it from under water and she whimpered as she felt her legs being guided open.

Her husband's hands cupped her face and she could feel him shaking as he peered at her with red swollen eyes. "Hold on, baby," he muttered. He pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead, and then he was gone again to help Hershel.

Another voice caught her attention and she looked blearily towards it. "Where's Carol?" Daryl asked.

Her son's voice answered from somewhere over her shoulder. "We don't know… they found her scarf."

Everyone seemed to still and look over at Daryl and Lori wanted to tell them to stop… She didn't get the words out in time before he froze and pushed his way out of the room, past Maggie who was now holding the crying baby against her chest.

Her eyes fluttered closed and the room went silent again and faded away…

…Carl was holding her hand over her head and she could feel his smooth cheek against her palm as he hugged her arm. Rick was there too, cupping her face again, his thumb stroking her cheekbone as his grey-blue eyes bore into her own earthy ones. He was whispering something to her and she watched with fascination as his mouth moved…

…

She was in pain, but she felt comforted by waking to the pleasant sounds of the baby cooing. Lori looked over to find Daryl sitting next to her on a folding chair, his Lil' Ass-Kicker cradled in his arms, the man and baby looking into each other's eyes.

Lori cleared her throat. "Where is everyone?" she asked, looking around the small cell.

"Glenn's diggin' graves," Daryl didn't look surprised to find her awake. "Rick went with Carl and Maggie to search that infirmary in the other buildin'… you were right; they got one there too." He got to his feet and ducked under the bunk so he could lay the baby down in the spot between her and the wall. The baby started to fuss as soon as he moved away to take his seat again. Lori moved her own hand to rest it on her daughter's chest as he continued. "Hershel said you'll need antibiotics. Figured I'd go on a run later if they don't find none."

Lori nodded, offering him a small grateful smile. "And Carol?" she asked, but received no answer from the man who sat beside her, his head downturned and shoulders slumped, though his face remained impassive.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. Carol had been her friend and she would miss her. She knew Daryl would too. Though he would never admit it, she knew. The two had bonded over the winter months and had formed a relationship that Lori had never been able to fathom.

"Should be," Daryl muttered without looking at her.

Lori paused, feeling her eyes widen.

"S'your fault. If you hadn't'a gotten separated… if you weren't such a lousy fuckin' shot…" he ranted. "Should'a just gone with Maggie and Carl - I could'a gotten to her. 'Stead I wasted the whole damn time on a roof and crawlin' through vents."

Lori looked down at the baby whose fussing had turned into full-hearted cries. She lifted the little girl onto her chest and pressed a kiss to her forehead. She accepted his anger with a nod, because it was what she could do for him after everything he had done today. He'd saved her life… and her little girl's.

She didn't offer him any further words, and though she felt the urge to reach out and take his hand, she resisted. Daryl had shown her today that he didn't need to talk, or to hug it out. He needed to rage against the world in his own quiet way, and grieve privately until he had built up another callous to protect his weak spot. He was an unstoppable force. He was unwavering, loyal to the bone, and brave. They needed him. And his own way he needed them too. His ways were harder to understand, but they weren't any better or worse than anyone else's.

He was just made different. And that was a good thing.


End file.
